literature

Agoraphobia

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Synesthi's avatar
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Published:
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Literature Text

I don’t want to come out.

I made a nest,
climbed under the bed,
and I’m sticking to it.

It’s warm and dark and
safe

It’s quiet,
it smells like tea,

(I climbed out to make some).

I don’t have agoraphobia,
I’m not afraid of OUTSIDE.

I’m not afraid of bigness,
of vastness.

I’m in love with the sky,
and the empty of the woods.

But I’m in love with the small,
the cramped warmth
and the blankets.

And I’m in love with the quiet,
I’m peaceful here,
I’m silent.

Sometimes I just need
to not hear my voice
for a while.

Sometimes I wish
I could turn it off forever.
I wish I could nest down,
and forget my name.

I made a nest,
and I’m sticking to it.

It’s dark, it’s warm
and it’s safe.
This isn't about agoraphobia, specifically, but in my new fascination with incredibly small, dark places that I can fit myself. This isn't a new fascination, it's one I've had all my life, but I'm under some personal stresses right now and my way of coping has been to create a "nest" under my dorm bed where I can curl up and hide. I've taken to calling it the Cave. I'm not become asocial (I don't think) but I'm having lots of problems validating my existence and feeling useful in relationships, and those problems melt away when I'm in here.

(Posted from inside the Cave)
© 2013 - 2024 Synesthi
Comments8
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maxnort's avatar
its winter.
small warm spaces are how we survive sometimes